


A Strange Concept

by ninetiesnecklace



Category: Being Human (UK), The Almighty Johnsons
Genre: Cuddling, Established Relationship, Fluff, Insomnia, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-16
Packaged: 2018-05-21 01:36:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6033294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ninetiesnecklace/pseuds/ninetiesnecklace
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"To sleep like Mitchell would be great, if only for one night. Somehow, his lover had mastered the art of falling asleep in seconds after his head hit the pillow. But no such luck for Anders."</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Strange Concept

**Author's Note:**

  * For [consultingfili](https://archiveofourown.org/users/consultingfili/gifts).



> A little fluff in honour of my consultingfili's birthday!

Their bedroom was mostly dark with a bit of stray light from the street creeping in through the shutter, painting a regular pattern on the floor that Anders had been watching for the better part of three hours now. Next to him, Mitchell was sprawled out on his back. He slept soundly and Anders tried to move as little as possible to keep it that way – he didn’t want Mitchell to lose sleep because of him. His lover’s naked torso was mostly covered with the blanket and his black curls seemed to melt into the dark fabric of the pillow. Anders could see his chest moving in deep, relaxed breaths. To sleep like Mitchell would be great, if only for one night. Somehow, his lover had mastered the art of falling asleep in seconds after his head hit the pillow. But no such luck for Anders. Or Bragi, for that matter.

Anders turned on his right side, facing away from Mitchell, and breathed deeply, tricking his body into coming down. Maybe if he timed his breaths to Mitchell’s… screwing his eyes shut Anders tried to concentrate on that rather than on the somewhat irritating feeling of the sheet on his skin. He always slept only in boxer briefs and now, suddenly, it felt weird? Anders opened his eyes again. This breathing deal wasn’t doing anything for him. His body was far too awake to fall for such a cheap trick and somehow he didn’t seem to find a position that felt comfortable.

Anders sighed inaudibly and propped himself up on his arms. There was hardly any way he could place his body that he hadn’t yet tried. Frankly speaking it was neither the fabric nor the temperature or anything that kept him awake – his bed was great and the sheet still smelled faintly of washing powder.

But all these things amounted to nothing: he wouldn’t get sleep any time soon. Quietly, he sat up on the edge of the bed and fumbled for the bottle of water on the floor when he heard Mitchell shuffle in his back.

“What’s wrong, babe?” Mitchell’s sleepy voice sounded from the left side of the bed. Right, that was another thing peculiar to Mitchell’s sleeping habits. No matter how deep he appeared to sleep if anything was amiss with Anders he’d wake up shortly. Which happened fairly frequently – Anders wasn’t a good sleeper unless he was knocked out by vodka. He couldn’t even say what kept him up. If he had to guess it was Bragi, the little shit, stirring in his unconscious and forgetting that his vessel needed at least a minimum amount of sleep.

Mitchell waking up when he did (and every goddamn time) had weirded him out in the beginning of their relationship. And for a good reason – it had made him feel watched, boxed in as if he were under constant surveillance. Of course Mitchell meant nothing by it. In fact, he didn’t even remember, confusion written over his face when Anders had finally worked up the courage to broach the subject. That helped a considerable amount and Anders moved on to making jokes about Mitchell acting like a nurse. Which had been funny until Anders remembered that he actually worked in a hospital. Not that he complained about the quite memorable night he fucked Mitchell while he wore his scrubs. Anyway, Anders had expected that the waking up thing would vanish in time; sleeping next to someone appeared to be as new for Mitchell as it was for him. But even after a few months of sharing the same bed Mitchell’s habit remained.

“Nothing,” Anders whispered, screwing the bottle shut again, “go back to sleep.”

“’r you okay?” Mitchell slurred in his deep voice made rougher by sleep.

Anders turned to look at his boyfriend. He was lying on his right side now and the blanket had slipped down to his hips, partly exposing his black boxer briefs. One arm tucked under his head, the other halfway across the mattress Mitchell looked like the model for a painting. The curve of his side ran beautifully from his broad chest to his middle and ascended again lightly, vanishing under fabric and blanket. The hair on his chest and stomach a twin to that line, partly obscured from Anders’ sight by his reaching arm. He couldn’t suppress a smile when he looked at Mitchell’s face. His eyes were barely open and one wayward lock was draped dramatically over his face, moving with every even breath he took. His lips slightly parted and their fullness highlighted by the stubble extending to his jaw made the picture an intriguing one. Anders knew how beautiful Mitchell was but sometimes, just like now, it hit him all over again. Maybe this was why Bragi wouldn’t let him sleep, maybe the poet had a crush on Mitchell.

“Yes,” he answered Mitchell’s question, making his eyes flutter open again, “just wide awake.”

Mitchell’s left groped for the edge of his blanket and lifted it in invitation. “C’mere.”

As much as Anders liked feeling Mitchell against him, preferably naked, he shook his head. “I won’t fall asleep anytime soon and just keep you from getting rest.”

Mitchell let the blanket fall down again and rubbed through his face, tugging his curl back behind his ear. “This isn’t your weird thing about cuddling, is it?”

There was no judgment in his tone - not that any particular emotion could be made out from the gravelly sound leaving his throat but Anders scoffed nonetheless.

“I’m not weird about cuddling.”

Yeah, okay, he realised the lie as soon as the words were out. Cuddling as such just wasn’t for him and the first few times Mitchell had tried to snuggle up to him Anders had reacted a little too strongly. They had laughed it off afterwards and Mitchell kept the suggestion to himself from then on. It wasn’t that they didn’t touch each other outside of sex; in fact, when Anders thought back it seemed like Mitchell’s hands were somewhat of a calming feature throughout his days. Sometimes Anders felt bad to deprive Mitchell of actual cuddling, knowing about his preference, but he couldn’t bring himself to do the whole blanket-and-lying-around-all-day gig. Anyway, it was too late to initiate it now. They had found their routine of small gestures and Anders didn’t feel comfortable to break it with something he wasn’t sure he wanted.

“Well then,” Mitchell smiled gently, looking more awake now as he blinked at him, “if it’s not that just come here and join me.”

Mitchell’s reasoning was entirely too easy for him to have fallen for it but here he was. Anders rubbed over his naked chest and sighed. Oh well, what did it matter, anyway – it wasn’t his fault if Mitchell was tired in the morning only because he insisted on… on lying closely next to his insomniac lover.

He put down the water bottle and just as he lay back onto the mattress he felt Mitchell’s hands on him. They pulled him in while at the same time Mitchell moved closer. In almost one smooth move and before the blond could understand how exactly it had happened Anders’ back was pressed against Mitchell’s chest, the blanket pulled up to their stomachs.

“Spooning?” Anders said in disbelief, wriggling against the light grasp of Mitchell’s hand on his chest, “Jesus fucking Christ, Mitchell…”

“I promise you, you’ll sleep in no time,” Mitchell murmured into his ear and moved his hand from Anders’ chest to his hip to give him more space, “Call it something else if it helps.”

“Like what?”

Anders frowned and wriggled again while he pushed the warm blanket down. Somehow Mitchell’s frame felt weird, not like he was used to. And what the hell should he do with his arms? His right was tugged under his pillow alright but his left just sort of lay there.

“I don’t know.” Anders could almost hear the cheeky twinkle Mitchell eyes would have if they were open and looking at him, “You’re the poet.”

How were so many people were fond of this spooning-disaster? This whole position was strange considering they weren’t having sex and so far he didn’t really get the fuss. This squirming in an attempt to find a comfortable position wasn’t one bit better than tossing and turning on one’s own. In any case, Anders felt like his own body was somehow in the way. Well, he had told Mitchell that it would only steal his sleep and up to now it looked like this was a spot-on analysis of the situation. His lover’s hand on his hip barely touched him as he tried for another angle.

“Spider monkey death grip?” Anders suggested and scooted a little lower. Yeah, that could work now that his shoulders were at one height with Mitchell’s chest. Which effectively made him the small spoon but Anders preferred not to think about that. Instead, he leaned into Mitchell tentatively. His frame felt like it should – a little larger than his own, protective, strong, but not overbearing.

Against his skin Mitchell chuckled, his lips lightly grazing the side of his neck as he spoke. “You don’t seem to grasp the concept.”

“And what is the concept?” Anders asked but the words came out a lot softer than he had anticipated. His back fitted well onto Mitchell’s chest at this angle and his lower back tingled pleasantly as it touched the brunet’s warm skin. In one last twist Anders grabbed his pillow and pulled it down to him, resting his head comfortably on it. Mitchell’s hand returned to his naked chest in a reassuring but light touch, leaving him enough room to move if he chose to. Though right now Anders thought that he could maybe stay like this for a while. This wasn’t half bad, actually, and his reservations about… about _this_ faded at least a bit. In his back Mitchell moved a little, adjusting his position to match Anders’.

“Warmth and comfort,” Mitchell answered drowsily, “Two things that make sleeping a lot easier.”

The casual statement coming from his lover’s lips moved something in Anders. Mitchell had that way of speaking, sometimes, when he said something substantial Anders hadn’t been aware of before. It wasn’t intentional, that much was clear. For Mitchell it was a simple fact, something that had structured his considerable lifetime from the beginning. Not even being turned into a vampire and the things he didn’t talk about seemed to have erased that understanding; Anders didn’t need Bragi to tell how natural it was to him. In these moments Anders felt like something was laid out in front of him, not in individual pieces but in a unified picture that he hadn’t noticed until then. And sometimes, this picture hit him in its elementariness.

Warmth and comfort. It seems like Anders usually only had one of those things in his life, and in different forms than normal people. But with Mitchell… with Mitchell he had a damn good chance of combining the two.

Anders cleared his throat and before his sentimentalism could get the better of him he wriggled his arse against Mitchell’s crotch. “Doesn’t change the fact that I don’t feel a hard-on. Which is pretty insulting to me.”

Anders could feel he chuckle that ran through Mitchell’s whole body. Little puffs of his breath washed over his neck as he muttered, “Shut up and try to sleep.”

Mitchell’s grin was still audible when he pressed a gentle kiss behind Anders’ ear. The blond sighed at the touch, pulled up the blanket again and settled in for good. The heat Mitchell’s body gave off after half a night under the thick blanket began to seep through him and only now did he realise how chilly he had been sitting on the bed’s edge before. It wasn’t a heavy, heady sort of warmth but something else – just right, warming him little by little. Mitchell’s earthy scent filled his nostrils and Anders relaxed. This particular scent meant many things in many different situations but above all it was reassuring, for him as well as for Bragi. Closing his eyes Anders shut out the stray light illuminating the bedroom. Even if he didn’t sleep this night he was at least resting and feeling less edgy than before.

“How’s that?” Mitchell murmured quietly.

“Warm.”

“Too warm?”

“No,” Anders whispered with a heavy tongue, “’s pretty good, actually.”

Mitchell rubbed his nose along his skin and his lips grazed the base of Anders’ neck in a soft kiss. Anders sighed in content and pressed a little closer to Mitchell. In his back he could feel his lover’s chest move slowly, rubbing against him in deep breaths again and after a few moments Anders’ inadvertently adjusted to his rhythm. In slow circles Mitchell’s fingers caressed his skin with the hint of a touch and with every other move his stubble scratched lightly at Anders’ neck. The blond felt his muscles unwind slowly. His body no longer seemed like a piece of driftwood he was dragging around but like it belonged here, in this bed, in those arms. Comfortably heavy in inert relaxation. The broad frame covered him like another blanket, his skin so warm and softening the strong muscles Anders knew were there. But right now there was no need for that, for any kind of tension. Mitchell’s breathing travelled through him and seduced Bragi with every rise and fall of his chest as Anders' thoughts lost their sharpness. The even waves were all that mattered now and their ease seemed to cover his body and mind alike.

When the caressing on his torso slowly faded Mitchell’s arm slid down to his middle, comfortably lying there while his hand came to a rest on Anders’ stomach. The blond lifted his left and found Mitchell’s fingers, longer and thinner than his own, and loosely intertwined them. Mitchell lightly squeezed his fingers for a moment, nuzzling his neck and another kind of warmth spread through Anders. This kind tugged at his heart strings and here, in this limbo between sleep and waking, he didn’t censor it. No sassy lines about hard-ons and spooning were left in his mind when he felt Mitchell fall asleep, his fingers between his own, his head resting against him. Because the reason Mitchell awoke when he awoke was neither to watch him nor because he wasn’t used to another person lying next to him, Anders understood in the fraction of the moment before he fell asleep. It wasn’t worry either, even though it might look like it at first glance. No, Mitchell woke up because of his compassion for him. Warmth and comfort, like he had said. The two sisters of love.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!


End file.
